


stop and start

by jessus



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Tour Bus Sex, bros being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:05:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3318485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessus/pseuds/jessus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are,” he says, and there’s something in him that says this means it’s time to move away, stop touching Calum, but another, more insistent part tells him to stay – tells him not to remove his hand from where it’s tucked underneath Calum’s arm. He just clenches the thin fabric of Calum’s t-shirt in his fist instead, finding the entire situation hilarious. “You’re jerking off.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	stop and start

**Author's Note:**

> heyheyhey y'all. this is my first 5sos fic and i'm cake af so there will probably be a lot more to come tbh. i hope you like it, comments and kudos are appreciated, and if you wanna hmu i'm @buttriots on twitter!!! xoxox ty

Luke doesn't get into Calum's bunk intending for anything untoward to happen.  
  
It's not the first time he's hopped in like he owns the place -- not the first time _any_ of them has -- and it won't be the last. It is, however, the first time Calum doesn't groan at him when he does it first thing in the morning.

 _Like you don’t love it_ , Luke is used to thinking, aware of Calum’s persistent interest in being violently hugged, which usually matches up incredibly well with his own. He can’t think that today, though, as Calum freezes as he whips the curtain aside, goes utterly still when Luke hops into the bunk and throws a leg halfway around him where he’s facing the wall.

"What seems to be the problem, Calum?" he asks, shoving a hand in between Calum's arm and his ribs just to get a kick out of the way he'll jerk away when someone even gets near one of his more ticklish spots.

But Calum just says, "Kind of busy, Luke," in this tight, breathless voice. Luke’s eyes go wide as he notices the way Calum’s arm is tucked under his sheet, the position.  
  
It’s hard to hide how amused he is. "Are you--?"  
  
" _Luke_ ,” Calum says again, sounding annoyed -- probably embarrassed, Luke thinks, but that's never really stopped him before.

“You _are_ ,” he says, and there’s something in him that says this means it’s time to move away, stop touching Calum, but another, more insistent part tells him to stay – tells him not to remove his hand from where it’s tucked underneath Calum’s arm. He just clenches the thin fabric of Calum’s t-shirt in his fist instead, finding the entire situation hilarious. “You’re jerking off.”

It’s nowhere near accusatory, laughter evident as ever in his voice, but it still makes Calum roll back a little like he’s trying to shove him off. All this does is make Luke’s hand move from his ribs to his stomach, though, slipping a little lower than either of them is supposed to be comfortable with, and Luke _feels_ the shudder that rolls through Calum, hears the way he’s gritting his teeth when he says “ _Luke_ ,” voice strangled.

Calum’s hand is still tucked under the covers, not moving at all, but clearly in the same place it’s been since he decided to invade the bunk.

Luke doesn’t know what makes him say it.

Or maybe he does, and maybe it’s been there a while, something more than curiosity that he was never quite willing to pinpoint.

Whatever the reasons, the words come. “Were you close?”

The situation loses all of its entertainment factor as soon as they do.

Calum shudders again, groans softly like it’s been dragged out of him and he doesn’t want to be heard, and Luke finally sees him move his arm, pressing downward as if to stem off what’s happening – but he can’t, and Luke knows because of the way his breath stops for a few short moments, the way his hips shift like he can’t help it. Luke can’t quite see his face, but he can see the way his mouth has dropped open when he finally goes slack underneath his sheet.

Luke stops breathing, too, has to swallow hard against the sudden dryness of his throat before he can say, pathetically, “Uh –”

But he has nowhere to go from there, nowhere that won’t give him away, so he just stops, his mouth clicking shut.

After a short pause, Calum says, “You gonna get out of my bunk now?” To someone who doesn’t know him well, he might sound casual.

To Luke, who knows him about as well as he possibly could, there’s an undercurrent of embarrassment in his voice that he can’t ignore. And because he can’t ignore it, and it was him who – in part – caused it, he doesn’t get out of the bunk.

He presses his hips forward instead.

It’s obvious as he does this that he’s not unaffected, that Calum coming in front of him has done what it’d probably do to any average teenage boy who isn’t completely heterosexual and is in the company of an attractive friend.

Calum lets out a rush of breath that he immediately attempts to cover up with a cough, and Luke rolls his eyes, leans in to put his lips against Calum’s shoulder and say, “Now we’re even, yeah?”

It’s not that big of a deal, he thinks – they’ve joked about it often enough, and if sometimes he thinks about the piece of himself that’ll always be Calum’s and no one else’s, he’s always been able to push it away to focus on their friendship, on the band.

So it’s not that big of a deal.

It doesn’t _have_ to be that big of a deal, and he’s ready to tell Calum that, his mouth opening around the words already, when Calum turns to face him and their eyes lock.

He’s scowling, a faint blush across his cheeks that Luke is sure he can only see because they’re so close. Luke’s mouth snaps shut.

“Not really,” Calum says, and then he’s reaching down to palm Luke’s dick through his boxers.

He’s way less tentative than Luke had ever imagined before when he’d let himself, his fingers curling easily around the shape of it, and Luke gasps, can’t help the way his hips shove forward to meet the pressure of Calum’s hand.

“Cal,” he says, voice choked, and Calum shushes him, looks down and watches the way his hand is moving.

It feels _good_ , and if he wasn’t completely hard before he is now. His breath stutters as he says Calum’s name again and Calum refuses to look up at him, just keeps his eyes trained downward, stares at the outline of Luke’s dick in his hand.

Calum licks his lips and Luke moans, grinding into his palm before he grits his teeth and says, “I need –”

“More?” Calum asks, because Calum knows him, is always one step ahead of him even if it doesn’t always seem like it. And Luke nods, the wrong side of frantic, probably a little pathetic with how much he needs to get off – and _soon_.

But Calum doesn’t seem to mean to keep him waiting, only removes his hand long enough to push Luke’s boxers down as far as they’ll go when he’s on his side like that, just enough that Calum can spit in his palm and wrap his hand back around Luke’s length.

It doesn’t take long after that, both the intensity of the way Calum keeps _watching_ like Luke’s dick is the hottest thing he’s ever seen and the feeling itself driving Luke closer and closer to the edge, and he leans forward, grips Calum’s hip and pushes his face into the soft skin of Calum’s throat to muffle his groan when he finally comes.

There’s a long moment after that, Luke suddenly bone-tired and absolutely not planning on moving anytime soon, and they’re both silent except for the sound of Luke’s breathing slowly evening out.

Of course, Calum breaks it, because he’s a dick.

“My hand’s all gross,” is what he finally says, pointedly. Like he’s implying that Luke should let go of him, get his face out of Calum’s neck so that he can move.

“Your hands are always gross,” Luke mutters into his skin, fingers digging into Calum’s hip hard enough that he hisses. “Bet your boxers are gross too.”

“They _are_ , thanks,” Calum tells him, and then starts wiggling. “Get off, Luke. I need a shower.”

Luke shakes his head, says, “Already got off,” and then laughs.

He can almost _hear_ the way Calum rolls his eyes. “You’re an idiot,” he tells Luke, and his voice is soft like he’s ready to go back to sleep, too, so Luke just lets go of his hip and sits up as best he can in the cramped space to shove his boxers the rest of the way off.

He lays back down and hands them to Calum like he’s presenting him with the crown jewels, and says, “Just clean yourself up. I want a quick nap.”

Calum grimaces, rolls his eyes and complains about it even as he does what Luke said. The important part, though, is that he does it, tosses the boxers to the bottom of the bunk in a heap and then follows them with his own, raising his eyebrows and smirking at the way Luke doesn’t look away.

Luke just gives him a sleepy grin, head pressed into Calum’s pillow, and then shifts to make himself more comfortable as Calum lays back down properly, throwing his sheet over Luke.

He scoots as close to the wall as he can, and when Luke makes a noise in protest, says, “I don’t want your dick against my ass, Luke.”

Luke laughs, moves in close and mutters, “Sure you don’t,” presses himself against Calum’s back to the sound of his scoff, and they fall asleep like that easily, without much thought.

That’ll come later, maybe. For now this is just _them_ , and Luke is as content with that as he could possibly be.


End file.
